Crash Landing
by T'Riva's Sarek Sanctum
Summary: Sarek and Amanda crash land.  What seems a simple predicament after surviving the crash, turns into a dangerous adventure requiring the help of the Kirk, McCoy, and others of the Enterprise crew in a battle against the Vulcans themselves.
1. Chapter 1

Crash Landing

**Chapter One**

Amanda awoke in a haze, awash in pain, still strapped in the passenger seat of the shuttle, only half-cognizant of where she was and why. Last she remembered, she and Sarek were on their way home to Vulcan, close enough to see the red-orange orb in the distance.

She looked about at the sparking, sizzling components above and about her, the tossed contents of everything not strapped down, realizing that they must have crashed. Her first focused thought was for Sarek, who had been piloting the craft. She twisted hard in the seat and regretted it immediately, her whole body aflame, and spied him slumped in the seat braces.

It was pitch black out the transparent steel viewscreen so she had no idea of their true circumstances, was only worrying for her husband who was at least unconscious. She tried not to consider worse possibilities. She fought the pain at every movement and released her seat braces, slipped out and crouched next to Sarek.

She touched her hand to his neck, her heart thundering and her throat tight, but he was warm and his pulse thrummed. She felt her whole body relax. After feeling for any abnormality along his neck and spine and finding none, she lugged him from the seat, not an altogether easy feat with their size difference; but soon enough she had him flat on the floor of the shuttle.

She pulled out the emergency gear and ran a quick check. Her main concern was an injury just above his left temple. A head injury for a Vulcan was always worse than for a human. She pulled out the enviro-blankets and cocooned Sarek, then checked the controls of the shuttle. The main power was down, but the emergency back-up unit should have automatically started the rescue hail upon impact. They couldn't be too far from civilization.

With little else to do, she hunkered down alongside Sarek inside the cocoon to provide more heat for him since the environmental controls weren't providing much if any. She stared at her unconscious husband, at his banged up face and wished he'd awaken to settle her fears over his head injury at least.

She could feel the temperature dropping, and there were two dire possibilities that plagued her. If grounded, she only hoped they'd ended up on a satellite with some atmosphere and not to close to or far from any star. If not, they would likely freeze to death as they slept or awaken to a far crueler fate-to be baked for an agonizing end.

She put those possibilities out of mind as her husband would advise; she had no control over such and space was so very large that the more likely fate would be to fall asleep as the air depleted or the temperature dropped too far, a too-common death in space. And she was with the one she'd wished to be with at the last anyway.

-ooOoo-

She awakened to a beautiful sight: a wash of red-orange across the shuttle that had to be Vulcan. She couldn't think of any planets or smaller satellites that reflected that particular shade. And the fact that they weren't already broiling with this brightness assured her that, though it would likely get hot, they weren't about to be baked alive. With their intact and thermo-insulated shuttle, they had some protection at least.

Sarek moaned, and Amanda twisted toward him and caressed his face. He opened his eyes and stared, then attempted to speak but only croaked at her. She slipped out of the cocoon and brought water. She helped him partway up to drink and, after a few sips, he looked around. "Where are we?" he asked, still hoarse.

Amanda felt concern due to his head injury. "Don't you remember, dear?" How could he not remember? He had to have brought them down on Vulcan. Had to exert some control upon landing, or they would have had no chance of surviving.

He stared at the viewscreen and looked even more confused. "We were too far from any planet."

"Not just any planet, dear! Vulcan!" She smiled at him, though her concern was great. "Aren't you at least grateful we're alive?" Her teasing had always seemed to lighten his mood, but his dour expression didn't change.

Sarek looked at her. "I am relieved that we have survived, of course, and in extraordinarily good shape it appears, for a crash landing. I only don't understand how that could be?"

"You brought us down onto Vulcan!" She chimed in, trying to cheer him up, if even a smidgen.

"But that couldn't be," he said, still staring out at the changing hues through the viewscreen as sand swooped by in a moderate sandstorm for Vulcan, though still deadly.

Amanda blinked at that, and looked to the viewscreen. It certainly didn't lie. So why did Sarek believe they were somewhere else? It was very curious, to say the least.

Not long after, Sarek slipped into a healing trance and Amanda took stock of their provisions. She decided that Sarek was confused due to his head injury, and upon awakening from his trance, would be himself again. And sandstorms on Vulcan only lasted a couple days at most.

Surely, Vulcan authorities must have noticed their strange approach; would investigate if only for reasons of security. If not, they would hear the automatic beacon. Vulcan was very efficient with their rescues. Sarek's bewildering behavior, however, brought an edge to her concern that she couldn't dismiss.

Likely though they'd spend a couple days bombarded by waves of sand, cooped up. Sarek would suffer his usual intellectual frustration and claustrophobia, and she might have a few days of what might even be characterized as a short, if not rustic, holiday marooned with her husband, with no duties to pull him away. It was not comfortable, but it was far better than what could have been.

-ooOoo-

Four days had passed, and Amanda's patient and hopeful mood had long waned. This was the longest sandstorm she'd ever seen in all of the forty years she'd lived on Vulcan. It was all so very strange. But worse, she was tired of talking to herself. Tired of hearing the swoosh and roar of sand. Tired of feeling the shifting of the shuttle with the larger gusts. If only it might let up so she might step out without losing her skin, and be assured there was a world out there beyond the red-orange curtains of sand.

She was starting to feel as if every other being out there had disappeared. As if there'd been some galaxy-wide disaster and she and Sarek were the only two left. She felt concern for Spock and the Enterprise, for all of her friends and family. All of the beings in fact, except perhaps for a few of the nastier races, then felt guilty at that. Certainly not very charitable of her. She shook her head at such silliness. Four days in a box with a porta-potty and freeze-dried food could sour anyone's better sensibilities.

She was starting to understand a faint shadow of her husband's claustrophobia. It was almost sensory deprivation, as if they were sealed in a silver and red-orange coffin. She wanted out, God-damnit, even if to see a sky and a horizon and hear the cry of the night birds she had always fallen asleep to. Even a Lematya's howl would sound good about now. It could bump their shuttle as a sort of a "hey there" on its path anywhere else. She'd know, at least, this was only a glitch and not a wholesale end of all she'd known. She almost wished she had a head injury too. Less to think about. Less to make you feel like you're losing your mind.

She could almost enjoy the solitude if her husband could offer some of his more interesting entertainments. As it was, she could only stare at him and fantasize. He was a wonderful source of fantasies to be sure, but she wanted the real thing. And her teaching. Her friends. She was even missing the long, exhausting diplomatic dinners. Even the chitchat with the more irritating representatives.

She glanced back at her husband with some concern. He had awakened from the healing trance still somewhat groggy and confused. Had explained that head injuries were sometimes slow in healing as the mechanism needed to heal itself essentially. Had awakened to hydrate and nourish himself and use the facilities with Amanda's help and support, but little more.

Each time he awakened, he seemed a little more himself, but he was still quite weak and dizzy, and still held to the strange belief that they weren't where they should be, even though he couldn't articulate why he felt that way. He stared out as if seeing something not quite right about it, too often shaking his head. Amanda was at least assured the planet was still there, and that there would be somewhere to wander when they could escape the shuttle, if only for a short time and distance.

-ooOoo-

Two more days passed and the storm began to let up. The edges of mountain ranges could be seen in the distance and the shuttlecraft no longer bucked with the gusts.

Sarek was sitting up, attempting to swallow solid food, more eyeing it and reading the labels than actually consuming it, but it was a start Amada figured. His dopey staring had lessoned, and he seemed better able to focus on the interior of the shuttlecraft and keep a conversation, to Amanda's relief, more so to quell her fear that he might be more seriously injured, but also because she'd read every library-disk and watched every holo-vid on board, multiple times. She would remember to keep a far larger stock of them on board in the future.

She stared at her husband and smiled. He had the scruffy beginnings of a beard, and his hair was a little longish as he'd been delayed in getting it cut, ruffled all about into silver-black waves from sleep. His eyes were clearer, though not their usual piercing hazel-green, and he looked a little less concerned, though she had to wonder if that was only for her benefit, for she still felt his strong concern at their predicament. Where Amanda glanced out the viewscreen hoping to spot rescue vehicles blinking as they approached, Sarek just stared out.

This storm had been so more intense than he'd seen in his entire life, but he didn't tell Amanda this. He'd worried her already before he realized the pointlessness of that. What would be would be, and allowing her some measure of calm would only benefit her.

-ooOoo-

The seventh day, the sun shown clear and the sand sprayed its last in the dying vestiges of the storm. She'd marveled at the length of it, and strangely Sarek didn't even comment, only frowned slightly as his brows pulled together as he stared out the viewscreen. She noticed the frown lessoned whenever he noticed her watching him, which made her suspicious.

Late in the afternoon they popped open the door and looked out onto the flows of sand that seemed to lie so innocently now. Sarek stared out into the dunes, his hand blocking Amanda's attempt at a giddy exit.

"Sarek, what now?" She complained. His overprotectiveness was too much after being imprisoned for so long. He still looked rumpled and tired so it was difficult to stay angry with him. She poked him in the chest. "Sweetheart, you can barely walk ten feet. You think you can scout the area?"

Sarek merely looked at her, then away. "We should deliberate then, shouldn't we? I am in no condition to help should there be trouble."

Amanda fairly glared at Sarek. "I love you, darling, but if I spend one more day cooped up with you, I'll seek a divorce the minute we find another soul with any authority!"

Sarek blinked at that, and stared, his usual loss at her teasing now compounded by his injury and weakness. Divorce was never a good subject to tease a Vulcan male about anyway.

Amanda laughed and crouched with him at the edge of the door. She cupped his scruffy face in her hand and squeezed his cheek. "Will you at least let me get rid of this beard before too long?"

His eyes softened, and he sighed. "As long as you don't attempt again to cut my hair."

She laughed at that, remembering the splotchy, uneven attempt she'd made of it when they were on a long, desolate visit to a world without anyone with any such skill.

"I just want the rest of you back, my husband. I'm not used to you being vulnerable. It scares me. My bulwark has become a creme puff"

His eyes sparkled and he gave a grunt and slight smile back. He was coming back to her so that she recognized him now. He was nearly himself but for some weakness and a lack of balance and coordination. It wasn't like they were in some dangerous foreign land after all. They were close to home, Amanda thought. Too far due only to this planet's harsh environment.

They compromised, as they were so used to doing together, being so very different in some ways. They would wait until daybreak, and then, whichever was better able would make a short scouting tour. In the meantime, they had to settle their boredom. Sarek stepped over to the cabinets of library-disks and holo-vids. Amanda sighed loudly and all but dragged him toward the bed.

Sarek was surprised at his wife's sudden and aggressive insistence. "My wife, while you have the right to demand such of your husband at any time by Vulcan law, I am not sure I have the strength, balance…or coordination… for such."

Amada smiled at that. Of course, Sarek assumed he'd be on top. He was, after all, a Vulcan male. "You won't have to do much but lie there, with your flag up."

Sarek's eyes twinkled at that. "Can I at least clean myself? It has been several days…" Though he didn't smell unpleasant, Amanda knew his fastidious nature caused him discomfort at even the thought of relations in such a state.

Amanda's smile grew. "That could be fun." She began to guide him toward the shower stall, surprised at how easy he was to maneuver. She'd thought he was simply being cooperative, until his knees gave way. They fell in a pile, Amanda atop Sarek, her knee just missing his groin.

Sarek appeared almost ashamed at his weakness. Amanda realized that Sarek had little experience at being the weaker and was having difficulty dealing with it. She turned his face toward her. "My love, you are brilliant, strong and accomplished, recovering from a crash that should likely have killed you. You are no less for needing help."

His eyes found hers, and she was surprised at the touch of doubt still there. He'd likely never expected to be the one needing her except in his Time, which brought him shame as it did most Vulcan males, not to be in control. She had to wonder if this helplessness brought up all of those feelings.

Sarek smiled slightly. "I am a foolish Vulcan male. What do I know as compared to a wise and cunning Human female?"

She helped up a wobbly Sarek. He balanced himself against Amanda as she removed his tunic and pants, and then her own clothes. She caught her breath at her husband's body, as she always did. He was still so beautiful though a bit battered. The look in his eyes betrayed the week he'd gone without release. She noticed his burgeoning interest between his legs. His eyes roved up and down during her unveiling, his breath quickening,

She helped him into the shower and turned it on, to the sonics regrettably. They were marooned after all and might need every last drop of water for drinking. But as the waves surrounded her husband's body in a gentle, slightly vibrating, caress, she decided he looked beautiful under the sonics as well and with the heat adjusted, it warmed them. She skimmed her hands over his body and he purred in response, his own hands more single-minded in their touch.

She couldn't help herself in the shower. He was breathing so hard, his turgid penis bouncing softly, pressing and tapping her. She slid her hand around it and watched her husband's eyes close and mouth drop open as he groaned. She favored the head with her thumb and he groaned again, and panted. He was close already, and there would be plenty left for her. She stroked him once then twice, tightening her grip ever-so-slightly.

"Amanda…" He was all but breathless. He tried to push her hand from him, but she held fast.

"Let yourself go, Sarek."

His hand fell away.

"Let nature take its course, my beautiful husband."

He leaned back into the wall, a moan slipping out every now and then through his panting.

"Amanda," he called out again, as if in protest.

"Shhhhh," she said.

She felt his knees begin to shake and remembered his still-recovering body. She held him tight against the wall, but he came suddenly, moaned loudly, as she felt them both slipping.

They ended again in a heap, both doused from shoulders to toes by an ample amount of semen.

Before Sarek had even recovered, Amanda started to laugh as the sonics chose that moment to click off, likely a safety precaution since they collapsed.

Sarek looked at her curiously, saw the mess they both were. "The shower seems not to have accomplished its function." He gave a slight smile and she laughed harder.

-ooOoo-

They lay in bed, both exhausted and in need of a third shower now. Sarek had already fallen asleep draped almost spread-eagle across the entire bed, and Amanda found a convenient nook to slip in alongside. Sarek rarely fell asleep without choosing to, but he was convalescing and likely she shouldn't have teased him for the third go-round. But he certainly looked up for it, in more ways than one.

She snuggled in, likely for their last night in this quiet cell with walls of too many miles of sand. The days were too hot to survive very long, and the nights were too dangerous for all of the carnivorous plants and animals. She'd already started to hear the sound of emergency aircars where there were none, so much so that Sarek had started to wonder about her. Now, when she thought she heard something, she counted to ten before mentioning it, and found it was only the wind playing with her mind.

When they were safe again, she would stay away from any length of sand for a very long time, or they were going to take a long vacation somewhere wet and cool-somewhere Sarek would hate, no doubt. They could visit her parents and siblings on Earth as a compromise. They'd been unable to find enough time for them anyway.

Her warm husband next to her, and the many warm enviro-blankets wrapped about them coaxed her to sleep, with happy imaginings of visiting Earth, or the very least, her own home, before too long.


	2. Chapter 2

Crash Landing

**Chapter Two**

Amanda was awake at first light-rainbow of colors that preceded sunset-and smiled at her husband still fully asleep. She was sure she'd win on their deal. She'd be the first out. Soon, she'd be stepping out into a vast freedom, and before the heat could truly set in.

First light on Vulcan, as on Earth, had always been a beautiful sight to her. So full of hope and promise. Her husband, however, had other things in mind usually, his thoughts rarely beyond the bed and her when awakened by her slight movements. Sex with her husband was usually the parentheses of sleep.

She looked at him again. Not even a twitch. She eased out of bed swaddled in one of the blankets. She prepared a small breakfast, as they needed to conserve, just in case. They had both lost weight. She felt she'd improved with the loss of the few pounds, but Sarek was starting to look too thin. She'd argued that he needed more sustenance than she, but he only argued that his Vulcan metabolism could handle the deficit better than hers could.

She stared out into the light now noticeably brighter and stared back at Sarek, still asleep. Frustrated, she opened the door to at least see the terrain she so wanted to feel beneath her feet. It was calling to her even as the door pulled away. She only had to step down but a few steps. She knew she would be the one to go anyway. Sarek was still fast asleep. He needed his sleep, certainly, and he'd never have to know…

"Amanda!"

She turned to see her husband vaulting out of bed, glaring.

"We made an agreement. Or did you so suddenly forget?" He was agitated beyond what seemed reasonable.

"Sarek, I was only…"

"…going to step outside and take a short walk?" His voice was sharp, his eyes narrowed. He was obviously angry.

"I was not." She glared back. Not take a walk, at least. Well, maybe a few steps.

"And how much less danger is there in standing in an open door, should there be some large carnivore nearby? It is still cool enough for them to be hunting."

Amanda swallowed. "You're right. I don't know what I was thinking. I was just…"

Sarek softened. "I understand." He stepped over, still dragging as if he'd not slept in too many days.

"You're still unwell," she said.

Sarek sighed. "Is it so wrong for me to protect you? To…fear for you?"

Amanda melted at this admission and hugged him.

He returned the hug, knowing he had better. There was a time in the beginning of their relationship when he'd earned her wrath by standing confused and flummoxed by this human clutching him as if she were some oversized, terrified sehlat pup clutching its mother. She released him and smiled. He swayed slightly and she made him sit down at the small table.

He was troubled as he spied the open door; the Vulcan deserts were not to be trifled with, and he feared even more than the usual carnivorous plants and animals one might expect. Certain elements just appeared slightly off, but he couldn't even theorize why. A Vulcan did so before presenting what might be a "hunch" in Human terms. Intuition was the antithesis of logic.

Then there was his head injury. If there was anything any Vulcan might deny, it was that he had injured his brain and therefore held judgments that should forever be questioned. A Vulcan would rather die than be characterized as permanently, cerebrally altered. It was a Vulcan's greatest fear. If anything, he feared it even more.

It was easier to hold these slight variations in weather and light in that vague nether land between actual or imagined; neither could yet be determined. Neither need yet be dealt with. Better left determined when his head cleared and his thinking processes became wholly his own again. It would happen. It had to. Or he would never be himself again. Just a shell of what he had been. And he couldn't accept that.

He realized that his name had been called. Was being called. His mind rewound to what had been experienced through his eyes and ears, and realized his name had been called twice now, and Amanda awaited his glance back at her.

Amanda was bothered by her husband's seeming lethargy and glazed look. Vulcans didn't daydream, or rather they could while still completely aware of everything about them, always alert and seeming to do several tasks at the same time. The steely gaze she remembered was gone, and now a softer, more vulnerable man she only saw before and after pon farr had reappeared. She forced herself to keep from coddling him like he was some child. Vulcans had such God-awful pride.

"We agreed," she was saying now.

And he remembered that ridiculous agreement. That he'd allowed himself to agree to her possibly risking herself only showed how crippled his thinking had been. Perhaps that he now sees the error he made proved he was coming back to himself. That he would be back to what he had been.

"I was not myself then," he said almost meekly. He shook himself, and straightened, attempting to use his sometimes intimidating presence to cow her as he stared straight into her eyes.

She glared back. "That doesn't work on me, Sarek. I know all of your tricks. You delayed me and now you think you can bully me until it's too hot to go out!"

Sarek seemed almost to deflate in front of her. "It is not safe."

Amanda shook her head. "Sarek, I don't know what's gotten into you. You act as if some monster were sitting atop this shuttle lying in wait." She stared at him awhile longer, as if to calculate the likelihood that she'd missed something. "I've never known you to overreact in anything but worry for my safety."

Sarek thought about that. It could be just some overreaction because of his inability to protect her as well as he should, due to his injury.

Sarek stood still pondering this possibility. He heard the door open, and before he could stop her, she was gone.

~ooOoo~

She felt guilty taking advantage of his confusion and slower reactions. Had run full tilt just to get a chance to escape that large coffin before she really said something she'd regret. She hadn't run over a small sand drift on the other side of the shuttle, so he might not see which way she went and she could take a few breathes of something better than recycled air.

The desert looked as it always had to her. She couldn't understand why Sarek kept staring at it as if he'd never seen it before. She chuckled and started to feel sorry for Sarek. He would be worrying, and she'd made her point. He'd have to stop worrying so much and relax. They had been in far worse predicaments.

She froze. She'd been staring at the shuttle when she swore she heard the slightest snap behind her. Her first thought Sarek had come around the other side of the shuttle. But that would be odd. Wouldn't he just follow her footsteps?

"Sarek?" She chided herself for the quaver in her voice.

She noticed patches of sand that looked almost swept about her, in a trail from the same direction she'd come. Her heart started to thud as she thought she heard another slight noise to the other side of the last.

She began to turn, started to call out in warning, when a large hand slapped over her mouth and she was lifted and felt herself being rushed back behind the drift. She felt rough skin and thick muscles covered in sand, smelled the strong scent of cinnamon and nutmeg but with a strange headiness she'd never smelled before. These had to be Vulcans! But the flashes of lengths of skin and what looked like animal skin clothing were so strange.

Perhaps some lost tribe? But they had some rudimentary relationship with the planet's majority population, were left staples in the harshest seasons and after fierce storms, were kept track of to make sure they didn't come too close to the more civilized Vulcans and tourists.

She and Sarek had studied their languages. If she could only talk with them. Let them know they meant no harm. She felt a hot breath upon her neck and struggled to free herself but the grip about her only tightened. She was thrust face first into the ground as whoever held her flattened himself into the dune.

She realized they were now after Sarek, whoever they were, because she'd called to him. She as yet hadn't even seen them but for chance glimpses. She feared for Sarek and tried frantically to come up with some way to warn him. But she heard several of them start to move away, and realized they were circling the point where they would draw him in. She prayed they wouldn't hurt him. Couldn't even think upon the possibility they might do even worse, and how easy that would be in his condition.

The male who held her pulled her from the dune. She could see Sarek following her path, and then he like her, with enough survival training noticed the swept-over footprints, looked up, and several male Vulcans appeared on every side of him. But these males wore scanty animal skins and long braids, festooned with several weapons beyond those held toward Sarek now. But Sarek seemed almost oblivious; he kept looking in Amanda's direction until he spotted her. He seemed to relax at seeing her struggling against the big male.

He held up his hands palm-up in the usual appeasement to hostile forces. He started using the local native tribe's tongue of those that still wondered the hills that had spurned civilization long ago. But they only seemed to get more aggressive, shoving Sarek and teasing him with spear-like weapons. He looked to Amanda and pointed at her, explaining in what should be there tongue that they were only passing through, meant no harm.

But they only advanced on Sarek, circling him, sharp spears and swords almost glancing his skin, then scraping and jabbing little cuts as they laughed. Amanda bit down on the fingers and when the hand jerked away she screamed for them to stop, to leave him alone, that they weren't their enemies in what should be a close approximation of their native tongue. But they only stared at her as if not comprehending.

One of the males sliced at Sarek's calf. He jumped from it but fell to his knees. The man holding Amanda shouted something that didn't fit at all linguistically. She noticed a flash of fear and dread on Sarek's face, as if he just realized something awful from what had been said. She was afraid the male had called for Sarek to be killed.

But all of the males grumbled and switched to the blunt end of their spears. One swing caught Sarek on the shoulder, another in the gut. The blows rained down as Amanda tried to scream through the huge hand. When he had fallen half-conscious, they began to twist and rip at his clothes, until he lay naked and bleeding, crumpled. Amanda stood stunned, even when the huge hand pulled from her mouth. She stared at Sarek until she saw that he was still alive, by the slight expansion of his chest for a breath and pale puff of dust from his breath.

It had all been so very shocking she couldn't think straight, only fear for Sarek. These were Vulcans, and they had acted like animals, vengeful animals needing to hurt and kill for little or no reason. It reminded her of all of the stories of pre-reform Vulcans. But how could that be? They only existed thousands of years back?

She stared at Sarek, stared at all of the males who stood about him, willing them not to strike him further, to let him live. But she also knew if they left him here, he would die horribly from the heat or by some carnivore. To survive, they had to bring him with them. She began to focus on that, to wish, to hope, to telepathically transmit that they should bring him, too, wherever they would take her, if only in vain hope.

The male holding her called to the others and they approached but left Sarek in a heap. Amanda felt a surge of fear, until two of the men called back and motioned him over. There was argument, and then he carried Amanda over to Sarek. Amanda feared for a moment when he handed her to another and pulled out his sword. But he only pushed aside the vestiges of clothes left on her husband's naked body.

The big male poked at Sarek then and ran his hand from chest to thigh, seemingly fascinated by something. He then ran his fingers through Sarek's much shorter hair, and yanked off the necklace of his office and family and clan rings he wore, eyeing them and staring again at Sarek curiously.

The big male stood, nodded and tilted his head to the side. One of the other males, less adorned and younger, picked up Sarek and heaved him over his shoulder. They moved off into the desert, Amanda focused on keeping with them as long as she could, so not to be separated from Sarek. She walked until she couldn't remember anything, and found herself noticing her view had changed to a Vulcan male's back as he unceremoniously carried her. Soon, her vision of the back disappeared into a blurry, wavy background and then nothing.

~ooOoo~

It had taken almost a week, but the Enterprise had done it. Scans had found the trail of Ambassador Sarek's shuttle, and as it was theorized, the newly discovered window to another time had been the culprit. It somehow had created a gravitation on its own that barely showed on the instruments, as if it were only a slight reflection of massive gravitational forces on the other side. A shuttle wouldn't have had a chance. And the window seemed to be closing.

Kirk had received permission to take the Enterprise in, and with the weeks it took to figure exactly where they should end up had also studied how best to fit in so they might be able to effect a rescue without contaminating that timeline. With ears pointed, eyebrows winged, adorned with animal skins, capes and long warrior braids, skin darkened to the bronze of the nomad hunters that roamed the deserts of that time, they were ready to try the bizarre journey themselves.

They could only hope Sarek and Amanda were still alive. It would be hard to find a harsher environment and people to find a home with and survive. But both were strong-willed and savvy. Had ended up in dangerous situations before enough times.

The pass through the 'window' was turbulent, but they survived it and were on track. While they traveled through the space of centuries back they recorded all that they could for the scientists back home. It would make for a fascinating comparison, and answer many questions in and of itself. They even wore the tiniest of cameras disguised as bone-like studs on exposed areas and brought with them a young archeologist Lara who everyone swore was Vulcan from her petite frame and long, dark hair. She was human however and had studied Vulcan pre-reform history and culture at the Vulcan Science Academy. She would join them on the rescue mission.

The approach to Vulcan looked so like their usual approaches, it took the complete lack of contact from Vulcan Space Central, and it not being where it usually would be, to realize fully that they'd have no help whatsoever, and that they'd be encountering an extremely violent, almost primitive, race this far back in time.

Surak would not even be born for almost a thousand years, and any contamination could keep that from happening. The result could be the self-destruction of Vulcan long before they ever made contact with Earth, leaving the Federation in jeopardy of ever reaching its zenith of power, and therefore likely leaving all of the rest of the Federation members in danger of being enslaved or destroyed in their competition with the more violent neighboring empires.

Even before Vulcan had become a member of the fledgling Federation, it had acted as an intermediary to keep the peace for the benefit of all. At least Vulcan as they knew it. This had been the strong argument against rescue, contaminating Vulcan, turning her destiny, and having the rest of the Federation affected to their possible destruction.

Or a worse scenario was theorized by the historians and scientists-that Vulcan unaffected by Surak would survive long enough to spread mayhem throughout the known Federation sectors, and destroy them alongside in Vulcan's predicted vigorous and violent self-destruction without the reformation to save them.

The metal of the shuttle wreckage was easily found on scanners, but the lone human and Vulcan with impossible to find on long-range scanners, due to the high metal content of Vulcan that had led to their prosperity, in addition of course to their species' natural intelligence, acumen and cunning. Only short-range scans would work, and the going would certainly be treacherous. Luckily, they had the technology now to help even out their chances against the harsh elements and present residents.

They beamed down close enough to the shuttle but not too near in case it had already been discovered. After a quick survey with short-range tricorders, they moved in toward the shuttle stealthily. From the outside, the damage was moderate. The landing had been difficult and harsh, but they likely survived it. The piloting had to have been masterful to have been thrown through the time-window, jettisoned toward Vulcan with its tremendous gravitational pull and suffer so minimal damage. They should likely have died.

Kirk ran to the side door and found it wide open. "Ambassador," he called out.

Only silence ensued. He glanced over at McCoy, who looked concerned, but avoided looking at Spock, who had to be fighting enough to control his emotions. His parents could already be dead. It had been a full week, and the two had already been exhausted from a long mission, and months away from much of any civilization. The last message had shown Sarek looking as tired and unkempt as Kirk had ever seen him, and to be so close to home when they were lost back in time was a cruel irony indeed.

If they were alive, Kirk reasoned, they had a good chance to rescue them with all of the men brought along (assurance they would be seen as a tribe and not be picked off as cast-offs who wouldn't be missed). The interior of the shuttle had been gutted of anything not easily removable, even one the passenger chairs had been torn from their brackets and dragged away. A testament to the strength of this species.

He hoped that Sarek and Amanda themselves had gutted the shuttle, after finding somewhere more habitable, perhaps a deep cave with a spring inside to protect against the harsh weather and moderate the wide range of temperatures deserts were known for.

A hulking security guard done up as a warrior called out to the captain, and Kirk ran to the other side of the shuttle and close to a rise that he eyed suspiciously. It would have been a good place to hide for anyone stalking the two. And his instincts were correct-it looked to be Vulcan blood sprinkled about, and shredded fabric that appeared to be a rich brocade woven of expensive fabrics. The remains of a tunic, a pair of dark trousers, and a one piece, thinsulate underclothing popular with Vulcans traveling to colder climates, or among humans who preferred a cooler ride.

Kirk knew whose clothes they were before McCoy even ran the scan. McCoy looked up at Kirk, and nodded. "It's Sarek's blood, but not enough to be lethal. And with no body nearby, there's a good chance they took him with them."

"For better or worse," he said under his breath. "Could it have been an animal attack?"

"No sir," the young anthropologist answered. "Not enough blood. Nor enough of a scatter pattern of it or the clothing. The material appears pulled and twisted before being ripped and there is no evidence of clawing."

During her report, Kirk glanced at Spock out of the corner of his eye. He was staring at the blood on the ground and the torn clothes with an impenetrable look. His silence told Kirk enough.

Kirk looked to McCoy, "How long ago did this happen?"

McCoy ran a scan and shook his head. "Hard to say exactly, but I'd guess about a day or two."

"Damn-it!" Kirk began to pace. "If only we'd been able to get here sooner."

McCoy cocked his head at Kirk. "Jim, we don't know that. It could have been closer to a week with such a dry climate. Whoever grabbed them may even still be traveling to their base-camp. We've got the advantage there."

Kirk looked at the anthropologist. She had a look he didn't like, as if she was afraid to say something. He caught her eye.

She swallowed, and he realized how very young she was-a prodigy even to get into the VSA, and then out so young and so quickly. She was barely twenty he remembered, had been let into Starfleet at only 17 due to the fact that she was an orphan and wanted continued stability and structure in her life..

"It's just that…" she started.

"Yes," he prodded gently.

She flicked her eyes at Spock then stared at Kirk beseechingly.

Spock looked over at her. "I know what my father's chances are, and what he will likely face, as well as my mother. Do not concern yourself with my presence."

The young lieutenant looked at the ground, tearing up and swallowing.

"If the possibilities are so dire, perhaps it would be best to tell us more quickly so we can get started on a rescue?" Kirk said.

She nodded. "He will be viewed as a rival male, whereas Amanda will be seen as property to be won, a slave. Since the ambassador was not immediately killed, there were likely a large number in the hunting party, and he was kept…out of curiosity and perhaps for…" She looked at Spock, who nodded.

"…their amusement." She paused as she noticed the dark look Kirk gave her. He was angry, but she realized he was waiting for more. "There could be many reasons. Any way he seems different from them-his lighter, less damaged skin, shorter hair... They're likely curious to see if there are other differences."

"Thank God for one aspect of Vulcan psychology," McCoy interrupted.

Kirk held up his hand. "Would that explain their tearing off his clothes?"

"No," she said, and looked uncomfortable again, which gave Kirk a bad feeling.

"When Vulcan hunting parties found stragglers, cast-offs, they usually killed them. As a litter often kills a runt. The hunters beat and cut them, tore off their clothes…until they were dead. An independent Vulcan, not a part of any pack, was scorned as weak, almost a pollutant to their survival as a species."

"Not a lot has changed there," McCoy mumbled.

"But they didn't kill him, or his body would be here, or dragged off by an animal…" Kirk looked apologetically at Spock, who seemed almost dazed.

"He is not dead," Spock said.

Kirk looked up at Spock, awaiting some proof so that he too could feel so sure, fearing that it might only be denial.

Spock shook his head slightly but sharply and Kirk turned back to the young Lieutenant.

She looked saddened again and almost angry. It was obvious she didn't want to continue. "When he's no longer amusing to them, there are three options…"

Kirk nodded at her, though his frown made clear what he expected.

"He could be sent out into the desert naked with hands tied behind his back to suffer from exposure, and if he survives, left to fend off the predators." She swallowed. "Second, he could be castrated and used as a personal slave in any way by the leader, but only the leader since he wasn't taken in true battle, if he has need of a slave or particular interest or curiosity about him." She paused again, and looked at Kirk.

Kirk nodded, readying himself for what was likely the worst alternative.

"Or, the tribe would be allowed to…use him…as they saw fit, the males that is, until he was dead. Most males, in good condition and healthy, lasted only a day or two."

Kirk swallowed at that and steeled himself for the journey that might have only a tragic end. "And Amanda?"

"Females are highly prized. And she will likely be watched, even pampered, to be sure she has no special powers first…"

Kirk looked up at that, confused.

"She has round ears, pinker skin. They may have seen that her blood is a different color. They are a very spiritual people. They might see her as something left by the gods or perhaps see her as some sort of demi-god."

"At least she might be safe," Kirk said. "Let's get going. We've got a lot of distance to travel in a short time."

They secured and cloaked the shuttle, readied the hover-skimmers, and started off into the horizon toward the tiny point of heat registering in the distance that could be the tribe, or only a le'matya heading in the same direction.

~ooOoo~

The journey had been long and hot and the breaks in the shade not nearly long enough. Amanda had lost track of the length of time they traveled, only remembered being given water in caves with springs she could hear burbling and echoing in the darkness. She'd stopped fighting unconsciousness, it was not worth the battle for so little gained.

She awakened when the heat had finally cooled and movement had ceased. They likely had arrived. She realized their danger only increased, as now the hunters had no journey; they could focus on their captors instead.

She spied her husband, obviously unconscious, battered, bruised and cut, with wrists tied and strapped to his waist. Unable to tell if he was even still alive before she passed out once again.

~ooOoo~

They had been traveling for hours, frightening le'matya's and sehlats and all manner of unrecognized creatures strange and mobile, as the raced by, swooping up the sand, almost silently, into swirls like tired tornados laying along the sand. Coms buzzed back and forth, and the captain swooped down to a ridge of outcroppings that would provide some relief once they exited the climate-controlled skimmers, and hid them and their gear before they started off on foot for the final leg of their journey.

They were too close to use the skimmers now. The clouds of dust might be seen by Vulcan eyes and would raise suspicion, and likely a scouting party. They powered down and secured their skimmers, pulled out their gear for the hike and cloaked what was left. But they didn't even step far enough out when they heard sounds they shouldn't, closed in defense, and were surrounded. The Vulcan tribe might have already been suspicious, perhaps by seeing the predators running toward them, or by scouts posted further back than they had time to scan for.

End of Chapter Two (Chapter Three coming soon)


	3. Chapter 3

Crash Landing

**Chapter Three**

Pictures and reenactments had made little impression compared to these real warriors. They leapt out and down almost silently from above like tigers, and held the landing party still with highly sharpened spears within inches of their throats. These warriors seemed taller and bulging with muscles, but still almost streamlined. They moved with power and stealth, ever vigilant of each slight movement, ever cagey and prepared. It was cause for concern even to swallow as they watched.

Most of their skin was bare and tanned a dark bronze, the minimal rest covered in animal skins, their hair hung in many tiny braids far down their backs, and clinked almost musically as they moved about and cocked their heads as they surveyed the team, precise, graceful and yet lethal with little warning, Kirk knew.

Their slightest movements brought threats as spears and knives slipped too close to their throats. Kirk couldn't help but notice that many of the hair and skin ornaments appeared to be bones and teeth, and most of them didn't appear animal at all, but Vulcan. Drapings from their spears appeared to be lengths of Vulcan hair.

The largest and oldest, with the faintest touches of gray at his temples, glared as he circled them, batting away the spears that didn't move fast enough. His eyes stopped at the young anthropologist, and he smiled and stepped toward her, grabbing her chin and yanking it up as he viewed her body with obvious appreciation, licking his lips. He looked hungry. His hand snared at her synthetic animal skin robe, almost yanking her off the ground. The young anthropologist looked terrified.

Kirk yelled in Vulcan, that they were "missionaries," their cover and likely the only possibility of saving their lives. All in their group gave the universal sign in Vulcan sign of a pilgrimage. Most pilgrims were left alone because of the fear of their gods' wrath should they be harmed, but it was no guarantee.

The large male bristled, glared and dropped the lieutenant in distaste. Still his eyes roamed her body, as if he had yet to decide whether to risk the wrath of their gods. A younger male approached, almost as buff and just as decorated with bones and teeth, which represented badges of accomplishment and power to these people they had learned. He leaned in toward the older and loudly complained, "She is found! We have the protection of the soft ones' gods…we did not take them…yet!"

The older male turned to face the younger, a cold look upon his handsome face that reminded Kirk of Sarek as he glared back, "You think you would be so honored. That I would leave her to you?"

The younger flushed with anger, turned and stepped toward the young anthropologist.

"You will die before you have the chance at her." The older said calmly. He set his hand upon his longblade, a heavier version of a sword, and far sharper. "Do not be foolish."

"Perhaps you have grown soft as those we caught, in your old age," the young man said and reached for the anthropologist.

Before she could even react, a swoop of longblade spattered blood over the landing party. The younger man's now-headless body crumpled at her feet. The head rolled a few feet, the eyes still open, and stopped staring at the sky. The spears were pulled back a few inches, and Kirk grabbed her and held her as she held back her scream, a sure sign of weakness in this people. The elder still held his bloody sword. He turned as if speaking to the head, "I do not give a second warning, even in my…old age."

He walked over and cleaned his sword upon the body and pointed at the head. "Bring that for a warning to others who would challenge me." The head was retrieved by it braids and the elder man smiled at the captain. "We can at least feed you until we decide whether you are protected enough," he said. He eyed the young anthropologist at this last. "Bring them."

"What of the body?" Another young warrior asked. He looked hopeful.

The elder stopped and smiled at that. "He was a warrior. His body shall not be used, for adornment or pleasure." He continued on. Kirk swallowed at what they might have done to the body had he not been a warrior. They were led along the outcroppings, protected from the heat and predation. They stopped for breaks along the way, where secret slots were found in the rocks, stocked with pouches of water.

Soon enough they came to the base camp and were immediately struck by its sheer size and the number of Vulcans, mostly young, mostly slaves who were kept naked. There was activity wherever you looked, mostly slaves that looked to be running errands, but more intimate activity could be seen in the shaded huts, where several males were atop females, obviously rutting without a care who might see. The landing party noticed but looked away, except for two of the youngest security guards who openly stared, slack-jawed. Kirk cleared his throat and they turned from the sight hastily, blushing.

But the elder noticed and laughed. "Your male slaves are intact?"

Both the younger security guards paled at that and kept their eyes on their shoes.

Kirk smiled at the elder. "Yes, we have few young ones, as our tribe is small."

The elder stopped, confused. "But you have only two females? Do you keep your pregnant females protected elsewhere?"

"Yes," Kirk said, trying to change the subject and not give them more reason to think they have much to gain from them. He noticed several cages barely covered from the sun, filled with females in one and males in another. All quite young, all staring out.

The elder smiled. "A successful raid. We have yet to decide their fates. But we were allowed over 100 kills alone that day. His eyes sparkled with seeming delight. Kirk felt ill. In the center of the coming open area, he spied a ring being set up that looked as if some event were being prepared. He smelled food being cooked. By the smell of it, mostly meat. He felt sorry for Spock. There would be a lot of meat, as there was little plant life as yet to sustain the inhabitants.

They came around the bend to find a large, naked male staked to the ground. His first thought he feared it was Sarek. He felt relief that it wasn't but impotent at having to watch the male suffer. He was handsome, regal, a trace of gray at his temples, his lips cracked as he lay baking in the sun.

"The chief of the raided tribe. He will be some of our entertainment tonight, along with others."

Kirk swallowed at that, not really wanting to consider what these people called entertainment.

He motioned them into his tent, which was large and spread with weavings between fire pits for the cold nights. A large contingent of pregnant woman sat at one end of the tent, on the other a large bed spread with furs. He waved toward the matt before a large chair. "Sit and be welcome," he said. Though Kirk doubted the invitation was any guarantee of good treatment. He was either curious or afraid of their gods, and neither might protect them for very long.

Throngs of naked slaves ran in bearing trays of food, each falling to their knees and pressing their face almost into the dirt with food held before them. There were males and females, mostly young, and all with long silky hair that fell down their backs. Kirk couldn't help but notice that all the male slaves appeared to be castrated. Another flurry of slaves brought in cups of water for each. Then another group came running in and sat upon their haunches peering up at the elder man, what must be the chief Kirk now realized.

The chief eyed them and then pointed at one before he sat upon what appeared to be a rustic throne. The young slave fell to his knees, lifted the chief's front panel of skin and began to fellate the man with avid focus. The chief laid his head back and closed his eyes.

You and your warriors may have the services of any you wish. He motioned toward the young slaves who all sat before him, seemingly uncaring. Kirk hoped his discomfort didn't show. They had been warned ahead of this likely scenario. "We abstain during pilgrimage," he said.

The chief opened his eyes wide at that. "Do you not drink water and eat? Do you not breathe?"

Kirk wasn't sure how to argue that, but was saved from doing so as the chief glared at the slave felating him and kicked him to the ground roughly. "Do you not know how to please?" he bellowed. "Another," he yelled. And another young slave ran and perched at his feet and continued the felating. Soon the chief was distracted by the new slave's skill and sank back into the chair moaning. He held out is hand and another slave placed a goblet of wine in it.

Most of the landing party stared at anything but the sex act front and center until the chief cried out in climax, then pushed the boy to the ground, and waved for more food. The trays were mostly meat but a few were the likely rarer vegetables and fruits found. Spock was able to secure enough from these it appeared. The water was quite necessary, as it was difficult to hide and carry to replace enough and most gulped thankfully from the constantly-filled goblets.

Kirk had no idea how any determination might be made of them. It only seemed as if the chief stared, and Kirk couldn't stare back as it would be seen as a challenge. It was then that he noticed with shock the rings and necklace that he had seen on Sarek in the past, and had an idea.

He stared at the jewelry as if surprised, catching the chief's notice.

"You recognize this?" He asked.

"Yes," Kirk answered carefully. He could save or damn Sarek with only a few words, and it wouldn't be clear how. "Could we see him?"

The chief stared at him, looking suspicious. "What do you know?"

He shook his head. The chief wanted reason so that he would be free to do as he wished. "I must be near him to feel his vibes." That got a strange look from McCoy.

"You can tell us if he has powers," the chief asked, "or the strange female who watches over him?"

"I cannot know until I see them both," Kirk said. "He may have no power at all…"

The chief brightened at that.

"Or he may have power to destroy all that you know."

The chief frowned and looked irritated.

That should do it, Kirk decided. Give him both hope and concern. He could do little but bring them to him.

And the chief stood. "Come," he said, and charged off. They entered a tent soon after, with only a fire burning in the center. They spotted Amanda immediately in the corner and at their feet a dirty, beaten and bleeding Vulcan male hardly recognizable but for Amanda's attempt to get close to protect him from them. The guards waved spears and she back away, staring at them and at Sarek with fear and desperation in her eyes.

Sarek was naked, with hands tied behind his back and around his waist, and lay sprawled where he'd likely been dumped. Kirk could see that he was still alive but unconscious. His lips were cracked from dehydration, and one glance at McCoy proved that Sarek was as bad off as he looked.

"We have much use for him should he have no powers, or if she cannot protect him," the chief said. "You can even have something of him. His skin is soft. He would be useful for pleasure or adornment, but another has taken his hair already it appears. It is a wonder they did not take his life. And his jewels, I do not understand what he is, to still have them."

"We must hear him speak," Kirk said. At the very least that would require fluids so that the obvious danger to Sarek would be alleviated.

He noticed Amanda turned at his voice. She'd recognized it but didn't quite believe it might be who she thought it could be.

The chief frowned. "But we have been weakening him for our purposes."

"To hear his powers he will need to speak. He could still be quite a danger to all of us."

"Could we not sacrifice some of our young, virgin males, instead?" He asked.

Kirk turned toward Spock, who responded, "We gave many recently, for nothing. The gods are no longer satisfied with such a sacrifice."

Amanda stared now at her son, who looked far more like himself than the others did.

The chief looked both suspicious and concerned. He looked at Sarek. "But his blood upon the sand could bring many good hunts, his body many males release, and his soft skin…"

"Yes, he might offer a lot to your tribe, but we cannot know until we hear him."

The chief eyed them, then Amanda, then nodded.

"You alone will make him speak. You may have any weapon you choose should he not comply."

Amanda stared at them as if still afraid to hope that they were being rescued. "He has not had water or food for many days."

"Silence!" he yelled at Amanda.

She only glared back.

The chief stepped over to Sarek, grabbed him by his hair and jerked him up onto is buttocks. Kirk stepped in and took him by the shoulders instead. The chief let go.

"I want to know soon. The festival of the victory will begin. He might be useful then if I don't keep him for my own use."

"Then I need to begin now," Kirk said, holding the chief's eyes momentarily then pulling them away soon enough to show respect.

The chief stepped away, but the guards stayed, eyeing all of them warily.

Kirk asked for water and it was brought by a slave. He cradled the unconscious Vulcan against his chest and touched the water to his lips. Sarek groaned and turned away, but had not the strength when Kirk cupped his chin and forced his mouth open slightly. A dribble slipped over the mouth and ran though the stubble of his beard, creating a pale streak through the dirt-caked face. It pained him to see Sarek such a mess, knowing how clean and well-groomed he habitually kept himself.

He requested blankets and the fine, powder-like sand used to clean with, but was not allowed to use any of them for Sarek. He requested more fruit and vegetable broth for his group, but again was warned against acquiring them for Sarek.

Throughout the day, and with the help of the landing party covering and diverting attention away, he was able to hydrate and feed Sarek ever so slightly. He poured a steady but slight stream into Sarek's mouth, who seemed to understand and welcome it now, but was too dehydrated to take much and still too dazed. When night came, Kirk argued that he should be close to Sarek so that he could read his vibes should he try to slip them by under cover of darkness.

During the night, Kirk was able to keep Sarek warmer and slip him some vegetable broth instead of water, as well as bits of fruit. He seemed lucid enough to swallow, but otherwise still quite out of it. His eyes when open, were only slits and his focus glazed. As the night stretched, Kirk couldn't help but fall asleep from the exertions of the day.

Kirk was jolted awake by Sarek stiffening in his loose grasp. He could see a figure in the darkness, immediately behind Sarek, kneeling. With concentration, he could see that the figure was a male, and that he was stroking Sarek's buttocks. He saw the man grasp Sarek's hair and Sarek flew to crash into the middle of the tent area. The male glared as Kirk stood to intercede or summon help. This was not the plan. He had no doubt this was a renegade intent on taking what he wanted from one he thought too vulnerable to stop him.

"Leave the soft one," the large Vulcan said with a sneer. "I will care for him."

Kirk took a step closer. The male lunged at him.

Kirk felt his body slammed with a seemingly unnatural force. The ground knocked the wind out of him. He looked up to see others stirring and the large Vulcan male lifting Sarek's backside and spreading his legs as he began to loosen his front skin.

Sarek began to struggle and twist away, as if he realized what was about to happen. Or perhaps could sense the male's aggression or intent through touch telepathy that he had little control of in his condition. In his struggle, he turned to see Kirk take another step and mouthed "no".

The others had roused now. Were looking about for what had awakened them, just as several large Vulcan males charged in. Sarek was now held tight by the throat and a knife had appeared.

Kirk stood frozen among the group, unsure what might be done had they all come for the same.

"I will have him or no one will," the Vulcan holding Sarek yelled.

"Nooo!" Amanda screamed. "Do thus to him and you will all burn into dust where you stand."

The chief stepped into the fray, and spied Sarek being held. His expression was calm as he stared at the Vulcan holding him. "Drenai, you know that I am to have first any that I choose."

Drenai shifted Sarek, looked confused and concerned. "But you have left him here. No one has taken him, so he should be mine."

The chief looked saddened and shook his head at that. "You know I cannot allow you first taking. I must be first. It is the chief's right, and responsibility."

The chief stepped toward him.

Drenai looked ready to forfeit his prize but still worried. "You will let me have the soft one, once you have?"

The chief nodded.

As Drenai let Sarek fall to the dirt, a longsword sliced through the air. Drenai's head fell from his body, still looking surprised.

"I would have let you, but I fear you can't now." The chief cut the fullest braid from the head. "His blood shall be served to all warriors. The rest taken in order of rank."

The landing party watched in horror as parts were severed in short order and the body positioned for maximum use and enjoyment. Fortunately, there were too many interested parties to see much of what occurred, but the sounds of ripping, thrusting, moaning and grunting were clear to all.

The chief eye's took on a menacing quality as he gazed upon the landing party now. "Your people have cost me two already. Our people lose too many and we will be prey for another tribe. Why should we not take two from your tribe?"

They had run out of time, Kirk realized. "There is another way. A special place where we can know the powers of these two more surely."

The chief eyed him with suspicion. "A place where the rest of your tribe awaits."

Kirk shook his head. "You may bring all of your warriors. Surely they can protect you."

The chief glowered at that. "I have little need of protection. It is our fertile females and smallest warriors-to-be that concern me. You bring our warriors away and raid what is here."

Kirk grit his teeth, finally letting his anger show. "Bring as many and leave as many as you'd like, but as we wait the powers will only grow. I have no desire to end as dust sooner than I should."

The chief stared a moment, then smiled. "If your tribe was large, I would have known of their incursion into our territory by now." He nodded. "We leave now. I want the soft one for the festival tomorrow should his powers prove slight."

Kirk picked up Sarek. Amanda was left to follow close beside him. She looked to Kirk for reassurance and he tried his best to give enough but not give too much away. So much still had to fall to their favor to have a chance to get away, and the dimensional rip would be closing in only a matter of hours. There was the worst case scenario Scotty was left to implement, but that could too easily leave some of their party behind to death, or worse.

The large group traveled back the way the landing party had come, trudging across much of the desert in full sun since it was later in the day, but time was short and the options few. The sun sapped much of their energy and Kirk began to fear they would fail even to make it near the skimmers.

The chief now all but glared at Kirk, and seemed to be having second thoughts. It would not be unlike these people to simply cut them down here and take back the few more interesting to appease themselves.

Kirk spied a familiar rock face just over the next rise just as the chief halted.

"There it is!" He played at an enthusiasm to motivate the chief to forget his ire. It worked better than he'd hoped. The chief perked up but still looked impatient.

Kirk carried Sarek close to where the skimmers were hidden by a cloaking force field and laid him down gently in the sand. He held his arms out as if to summon gods, and waved the landing party forward. "My people can combine the force necessary to sense his true powers."

The landing party gathered close. As the ancient Vulcans closed in Kirk stood and shook his head. "No. You need to stand back so that we can generate the field all about us." He looked to Spock who nodded ever so slightly and backed to within inches of where he remembered the closest skimmer to be.

As the ancient Vulcans watched, the air began to shimmer all about the landing party, until they could no longer be seen even as they squinted. The shimmering dissipated and they ancient Vulcans gasped. The strange ones were gone. All of them.

The power of the short-haired one was great after all, the chief decided. He believed his tribe lucky to have survived at all. He did not know what had happened exactly, but Vulcan was a brutal planet full of more dangers than they could ever imagine, and strange powers best avoided. He did not know whether to feel grateful of the strange ones. Or jealous of where they might have ascended to. But further thought on such was purposeless and a festival awaited.

The emergency beam-out signaled for was well concealed by the emergency force field of the skimmer. Little would have been seen and therefore the chance of changing the timeline was greatly minimized.

Medical staff awaited and Sarek was hustled off before anyone could question his health to gather the severity of his injuries. Kirk sighed. To have come so far only to lose him would be unthinkable.

Amanda followed the anti-grav stretcher as it eased out the door. Kirk hustled to catch up.

The flurry of medics was all that could be seen as Kirk joined Amanda, and Spock eased in immediately after.

The vitals seemed to create a confused assortment of beeping and buzzing that certainly wasn't any normal kind of rhythm, but with the sound of several hypos and orders for various adjustments to equipment the soft chorus of medical noise smoothed out, and McCoy popped his head up and motioned them over.

Sarek still looked bruised and battered, but cleaner and certainly a bit healthier.

McCoy shook his head. "He's a bit banged up and dehydrated, but the head injury seems to have improved. I wouldn't have given him such a positive prognosis but I guess he's where Spock got his nine lives."

"I am only glad you plan to keep the other eight in reserve, rather than depend on them," Spock quipped.

Amanda stepped up close and began her coddling, smoothing Sarek's bangs.

Kirk smiled.

Sarek's eyes fluttered open. He looked relieved to see the sickbay around him, but also a bit confused. "How…"

"Shhhh…" his wife said.

And her Vulcan obeyed, or simply fell asleep. She couldn't be sure, but either way he looked almost amused as he faded into oblivion.

She took the opportunity to plan their next vacation, because it wouldn't be right not to include him. And he wouldn't know whether he'd simply not been as aware as might embarrass him, or if she might have taken advantage. No matter.

"We shall be taking a cruiser to Earth, somewhere wet and cool where I can bundle you up. My parents will come so they can also watch over you. We'll have a grand time…"

Sarek made a noise that may have had nothing to do with a conscious attempt, but Amanda decided it was in agreement. She would have the reservations all made and them committed before he might even question her absence.

Kirk guffawed.

McCoy snickered.

Spock wanted to roll his eyes, but only pursed his lips in irritation. Human females, as his father was wont to say, often got their way through perverse machinations and convenient circumstance.

The End


End file.
